


A dive in space

by xxjxxc



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, JeanMarco Gift Exchange, JeanMarco Gift Exchange 2018, M/M, Science Fiction, alien on earth, beach date, different planet similar problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxjxxc/pseuds/xxjxxc
Summary: Earth often is a confusing, frustrating place to Jean, but it sure helps that he has an understanding boyfriend. And a place to swim. Finally.





	A dive in space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HedgehogOfSpades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedgehogOfSpades/gifts).



> Science fiction! What a challenge! I don't have any experience writing this genre, but I tried my best and I really enjoyed pushing my knowledge and imagination in the creation of an alien character. 
> 
> For the story, I combined familiar elements from your prompts; alien comes to Earth, secret boyfriends, dates, and marveling at the miracles of space. 
> 
> I hope you like it ^^
> 
> Happy holidays to everyone who celebrates, and may 2019 be a great year!

It was strange to Marco, how nobody seemed to notice a thing. Sure, Marco initially hadn’t seen the differences either, but now that he knew, it was actually really obvious. 

It could be because Jean had gotten comfortable with Marco, always turning to him first when he ran into something he didn’t understand. Jean had changed a lot; when he had first arrived, he was an unsociable new kid, but now he didn't hesitate to make his thoughts heard. Jean was often skeptical and vocal about his complaints, commenting on weird habits, odd sayings and complicated paperwork. For the last category, Marco usually didn’t know how to respond, having his parents to look after his tuition and other bills, but it was useful practice to figure it out together. It wasn’t so bad, either. Jean would grumble about stupid rules and get increasingly grumpy, and Marco couldn’t help finding him increasingly adorable. 

Marco knew how hard a school transfer could be. His father was a military man and he had been restationed twice within a short period of each other, both times having the family move out of state. Marco was barely 14 when he was torn away from the friends he grew up with, and approaching 16 when he had to leave the people he was just starting to warm up to. His teenage brain didn't take well to the change, to being put through this again by his own parents, and all in all, his rebellion had set him a year behind in high school. On the flipside, it did help his parents to see how Marco experienced the moves. They listened to his opinions more now, sat him down to hear their point of view, and they had all learned to do better. 

In a way, Marco could relate to Jean’s struggles to adapt. It was one of the main reasons Marco had approached Jean when the other was pushing everyone away. He didn't want Jean to feel as alone as he had, as misplaced as he had, and to fall into that same vicious cycle. What Marco hadn't realised at that time, and what nobody else had figured out so far, was that Jean didn’t simply come from another state or even another country. 

Jean came from another planet. 

Marco had found out by accident. It wasn’t spectacular, but Marco liked to think it wouldn’t have happened with anyone else. It was because Jean felt at ease with him, that he had momentarily forgotten to watch his mouth. Marco had made a conscious effort to let Jean know it was okay to be affected by the transfer, but in a few months, Marco would learn that that wasn’t completely the reason for Jean’s reluctance around new people. 

Jean was normally an expert at choosing his words to hide his secret, but sometime in late November when Jean and Marco had sat down for a hot chocolate, he misspoke. The day was cold and dark and it frustrated Jean, and as he was venting about it to Marco, he’d gruffly crossed his arms over his chest and declared that “some areas may be uninhabitable, but at least the damn weather is consistent on my planet”.

Pro’ce’b. Just over 4 light years away from Earth. Tidally locked to its star, leading to extreme temperatures on the closest and most distant point, but predictable climate. Vast oceans, fertile soil and vibrant life. 

The planet where Jean grew up as the son of a successful scientist, a load of expectations put upon him from the day he could solve basic calculations. The planet where Jean didn’t really have a say in what he wanted to do, where a career in planetology was decided for him, until the opportunity arose to do a practical study on the environment and society of a nearby planet. Lifestyle interested Jean much more than faulty theories did, and it was one of the few times when Jean and his father had seen eye to eye about the value of a project. Groups were selected to travel to Earth, assigned to disperse, mingle and regularly send updates to a space station. Jean had left with the next team. His stay was indefinite. 

When Jean saw the look on Marco’s face, he’d realised his mistake quickly. He did try to patch it up, but as good as he was at faking his background story on a daily basis, once caught, he was terrible at it. Marco didn’t buy it, and eventually, Jean caved. At first, his answers were short and Jean kept pausing hesitantly, but he was literally opening up a whole new world for Marco and Marco was excited more than anything, encouraging Jean to tell him about the differences with Earth. Once he got talking, Jean was relieved to find someone who shared his bewilderment about different atmospheres, and maybe at that point he was already plotting to turn Marco into his personal Earth encyclopedia, but Marco didn’t mind. He was glad to help, even more so now he understood how far Jean truly was from all he had ever known. 

In public, they always had to be aware of people listening in and hush if the question was urgent. In private, Jean all but yelled about insanely strict time regulation and Marco beamed as he told the other to explain how life was organised on his own planet. 

Realising that he was smiling to himself as he arrived at his car, Marco tried to school his face into a neutral expression. He leaned against the door on the driver’s side, waiting for Jean to finish his last class and join him. 

It was strange, all of it, but Marco didn’t mind. On the contrary.

How many people could say they have kissed an extraterrestrial? 

“Swimming! Swimming!” 

Marco looked up as he heard Jean’s voice, raising his eyebrows at the uncharacteristic bounciness. Jean walked up to him with an uplifted pace, waving his bag at Marco in greeting. There was a huge smile on his face and Marco automatically smiled back, fondness flooding his chest at the sight. As much as Earth was confusing to Jean, it also lend itself to positive surprise and joy when things turned out for the better. 

Actually, it wasn’t true that Jean was only vocal about his complaints. His neutral expression was a little on the stern end, and it undoubtedly took longer for Jean to open up his cheerful side than his sarcastic one, but in reality, he was also very vocal about his excitement.

Now that was some information to store for later. 

“Hop in.” Marco gestured to his car, grin broadening as Jean sped towards the passenger’s side. He paused in his seat, looking over at Jean and waiting for the other to notice they weren’t heading off to the beach as soon as possible. Jean frowned at him expectantly. “You look excited.”

“I am!” Jean said, not missing a heartbeat to confirm the obvious. “I can’t believe how long you have to go without outdoor swimming. Screw winter. Your seasons blow my mind.”

“Well, my apologies for the tilt of my planet. You could always move to the south,” Marco countered, a quick wit he had adopted in the face of Jean’s inexhaustible remarks. It didn’t always work to shut him up, but the back and forth of insults was quite fun, especially when it got to the point of completely ridiculous suggestions. 

Jean glared at him, but didn’t retaliate. Victorious, Marco grinned and made to lean forward, but he stopped when he realised they were still in the school parking lot. He couldn’t kiss Jean, as much as Jean looked delightful right now. Between themselves, their relationship was uncomplicated. In the end, they didn’t know who might have to leave first. It was much more important to enjoy each other’s company while they could, avoiding unnecessary stress. When the outside world was involved, it was more complex. It was hard enough on Jean to hide his identity as it was, let alone if he was introduced to Marco’s parents as a boyfriend. Nosy friends and invasive neighbours could be anywhere, so the two had decided it would be better for now to keep things to themselves. Besides, it was unclear how people on either side would respond to interplanetary dating. 

Knowing what was on the other’s mind and what kept him from it, Jean grinned and turned the situation to his hand. “In 20 minutes if you start driving.”

When spring finally made itself known, Marco had asked if Jean wanted to go to the beach. He’d been aware that Jean liked to swim, but not of the extent of it. Marco told him that it was a concealed area, that he could swim in his natural form if he wanted to, and Jean had metaphorically deafened him with his answer. On Jean’s home planet, swimming was the uncontested number one of sports. There were evolutionary roots in the passion for water, gills and webbed toes still in their genetic makeup. Being able to spend longer periods of time underwater had long been essential for survival, but nowadays, with advanced technology giving them more and more control over nature, swimming and deep diving remained culturally significant. 

The beach wasn’t much of a beach, but it was private. It was a spot Marco had discovered when he needed time alone, wandering off of the beaten path in search for solitude. The main beaches at the lake would be crowded all summer, but this quiet patch of sand was too hard to reach. They had to climb down from the level of the road to the level of the reservoir, making their way through unkempt plants and bushes to reach the small lakeside clearing. 

Jean stopped halfway onto the beach, feet burrowing into the sand as he was captivated by the endless lake. The sunlight was so bright, sparkling on the surface of the water and showing its various shades of blue in high contrast. It was a gorgeous sight, and one impossible to come by in the permanent twilight of Jean’s home planet. It was a privilege that he got to see the beauty of another planet with his own two eyes; a luck he couldn’t measure. 

Marco came to stand beside Jean, taking in the view, a slight smile on his face as he appreciated the scene. When he felt a touch to his waist, Marco looked over and was immediately swept into a kiss.

Jean had promised one back in the car, after all.

Grinning up at Marco’s surprised face, Jean leaned in again and locked their lips together more gently. Marco drew Jean closer, a contented hum sounding from deep within his chest. His hands came to rest on Jean’s arms, seeking more contact between them. Under the caress of his thumbs, Jean’s skin turned rougher, but it didn’t distract Marco from the tenderness of their kiss. It was slow-paced, spiced up with teasing tugs, and the softness of Jean’s lips never changed a thing. When they parted, Marco wasn’t surprised to look into much larger, bright orange eyes. 

There was a satisfied smile on Jean’s lips, their ruddy shade set off against the teal green of his skin. Jean’s natural appearance was as easy on the eyes as his human one, even if it was less familiar to Marco. His huge irises, elongated ears and upturned nose were distinctly not human, but they did little to hide the incredibly similar bone structure underneath. Jean couldn’t alter his bones, either. Changing appearance was an innate ability to his species, but the hardest thing they could reshape was cartilage. They could shift naturally between a range from light seafoam to deep teal skin colouration, a method for camouflage and temperature regulation much like chameleons, but anything beyond that took practice to perform and maintain. Taking human appearance had taken Jean over ten orbits to learn. 

“Come on,” Jean urged, eagerly pulling at Marco’s arm as he turned towards the lake. His voice didn’t change. His personality didn’t change. Whatever form he presented, Jean was the same guy Marco couldn’t get enough of.

“Go ahead.” Marco reached out to take Jean’s bag from his hands. “I’ll put these down and join you in a moment.”

Jean looked at him as if considering to argue, but then he shrugged. “Sure.” Taking a step back, Jean briskly took his shirt off, carelessly hanging it over Marco’s arm before reaching for his belt. “Take these for me too, alright,” he added, kicking his shoes off and hanging his pants over his shirt in no time. Marco didn’t comment on it, more caught up in Jean’s eagerness to get to the lake and, admittedly, his preference for slim-fitting shorts. It was quality, smooth black fabric that embraced his figure, and it was contrasted even more as soon as Jean’s feet touched the water and his skin tone paled as if it automatically wanted to match its surroundings. It was an active choice, Marco knew that, but it just went to show how happy Jean was to get in open water. 

Jean dove under and Marco tore himself away from the sight, moving closer to the cliff to put their belongings somewhere in a shaded and concealed corner. This was a place Marco loved coming to; offering him the peace and quiet he needed to sort his thoughts out, to rest after a long day, and now to be with Jean in a beautiful part of nature without any worries. Marco had brought himself a book, knowing that Jean was probably going to go off for a long swim that he couldn’t possibly hope to follow on, and he was looking forward to lazing about in the sun with a good story. 

Marco nearly jumped out of his skin when something grabbed him by the ankle, but the subsequent bubbles of laughter on the surface quickly gave Jean away. Marco nudged him with his foot, hitting his side or an arm. If not for the few patches of colour, those camouflage skills would have made Jean as good as invisible, and it was hard to tell what happened underwater. When Jean showed himself, he made sure to pout extra hard and sit stubbornly where he was too deep to reach. Marco rolled his eyes dramatically and motioned largely with his hands, ensuring that Jean got his sarcasm from down there. It was enough, because Jean easily dropped the act and poked his head above water, shaking his hair away from his face like a true cinematic masterpiece. 

“Look what I found.” Jean completely bypassed the banter, proudly holding up a stem of dark hornwort. “These look similar to a common plant at home. They’re almost just like this, but even darker,” he continued, eagerly looking up at Marco, then back at the plant. Holding his hands beside each other, Jean matched one to the colour of the hornwort leaves and made the other a rich, deep and mildly bluer shade. “Like this.” 

Marco took the excuse to touch Jean, taking his hands and holding them together at a different angle. “But the shape is just like this?”

“Yeah. It must be super adaptive,” Jean said, the intrigue and wonder audible in his voice. Marco loved hearing it. 

“Or the conditions aren’t as different as you’d think,” Marco suggested, shrugging at his own unsure idea. “That’s amazing.” 

“It is.” Jean gazed at the plant, hands returning to their natural teal. His shoulders slacked, and when he turned his attention to the shore, his expression was distant. His eyes seemed to lose some of their brightness as his smile faded, drawn to something that Marco couldn’t recognise. 

Pointing at the tall, bright green reed along the beach, Marco quickly aimed for a distraction. “Now do those!”

Glancing in the direction Marco indicated, Jean turned back to him with a frown. “That’s bullying, Marco. You’re bullying me,” he claimed, tone flat, but with amusement pulling at the edges of his mouth. Jean splashed water at Marco for revenge, and when Marco had wiped it from his eyes, Jean was swimming in the direction of the reed. Standing up in front of it, Jean stretched his hands above his head to match its height and concentrated. Bright colours always gave him more trouble. Pale, muted colours weren’t a problem, nor were dark ones, but those light, intense hues were virtually unseen on Pro’ce’b. Even so, when Jean gave it a serious try, there wasn’t anything beyond possibility. Gradually, from his fingertips down to his elbows, Jean’s skin turned the sandy colour of the early flowers, his body blending into a vivid green. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marco called out, wading closer through the lake. “I’m convinced you could turn into the sun itself.”

“Not in a million years.” As soon as Jean’s attention was divided, the green started to turn subdued, fading into a shade Jean was more skilled with. He didn’t appear bothered by the imperfect control, for now at least, leaning into Marco’s personal space when the other stopped beside him. “Thank you for taking me here,” Jean said, his voice and expression softening. “It’s really nice.”

“I’m glad.” Marco smiled, running an assuring touch down Jean’s arm. “We can come here all summer. As much as you want.”

“Thank you.” Jean put his hand over the one on his wrist, closing the final gap to press a peck to the side of Marco’s mouth. “I wanna go for a dive. Do you mind?”

Marco shook his head. “Of course not. I knew you would.” 

Jean nodded at that, giving Marco another quick kiss before heading out into the lake. Marco knew he wouldn’t see the other for a while; Jean didn’t only love to swim, but it was important to keep his gills healthy, especially on Earth. They didn’t disappear when Jean took human form, but, for a lack of better words, they closed off. They retracted deeper into his skin, making them less visible and less vulnerable, but also prone to drying out. At home in the bathtub was the only time he could fully submerge them, but Jean had mentioned that it wasn’t nearly as good as swimming freely in a natural body of water. 

Marco was lounging on his beach towel, open book placed over his tired eyes to shield them from the sun, when suddenly the light hit them again. He heard muffled laughter as the world turned into an orange blur for a moment, blindly grabbing for his book.

“Hey, Marco.”

Marco’s eyes finally readjusted and he looked at Jean, sitting up to push the smug book thief. “You’re back,” Marco commented flatly, trying to sound mildly irritated, but it was hard when looking at Jean's cheerful face. Taking his book from Jean’s hands, he placed the bookmark between the pages and put it aside. “Hi, Jean,” he offered, letting the sleepiness droop into his voice and blinking his eyes again. Jean was looking at him with a sort of warm affection that only let Marco relax more. “You look great.”

“I feel great.” Jean stretched his arms, relishing in the ache of his muscles after some good exercise. Jean had rarely looked so free, so refreshed, and Marco decided it was time to practice his swimming more. 

This was what Jean was supposed to look like; what he looked like when he was himself, healthy and satiated. 

Marco didn’t know where it came from, but suddenly the sound of Jean’s native name rung in his ears. “Jha’n.”

Jean raised his eyebrows at him, surprised. “Quite good.” Amusement pulled on his lips, ready to tease Marco as he failed to pronounce Jean’s native language again. Jean had tried to teach Marco a couple of words and phrases before, but the intonation was so difficult and foreign, Marco couldn’t link it to anything and soon forgot. “Jha’,” Jean said, waiting for Marco to repeat after him. “Jha’n.”

“Jha’n.”

“Perfect.” Jean jutted a finger at him like a strict, but proud teacher. “Remember what I called you?”

“Aru’m.” 

“Which means?”

“Constellation.” His nickname, or local name, was probably the only thing Marco could confidently answer to. When Jean had first given him the name, it had felt like an effort include Marco in Jean’s home culture. Even if he’d done it on a whim, half joking, the implication had stuck with Marco and locked the memory in his mind. 

“Yeah,” Jean breathed, gaze falling down to the freckles on Marco’s cheeks and nose. He ghosted his fingertips over Marco’s cheekbone, touching them tenderly as if he traced something precious and fragile.

Marco had become even more attached to the name when he learned about the meaning of stars in Jean’s culture. “We don’t get to see much of them anymore,” Jean had explained, “But we used to, before the planet synchronised with our host star. We used to look at the position of constellations to track our orbit. Science and technology largely started by studying the stars. Generations later, the stories still fascinate many of us. What you see in the sky every night has always been a dream for me.”

There was a traditional way of tattooing based around constellations. If that didn’t show their importance, that people would sit through the pain to have stars inked into their skin, Marco didn’t know what did. The order wasn’t necessarily accurate to the universe, although some people argued it should be, but in Jean’s case, he’d added the ones he liked in the places he liked. 

Jean saw that in Marco’s freckles; legends, dreams, culture and beauty. 

Marco had never been bothered by his freckles, but he didn’t particularly like them either. He sure had a new perspective now. 

“This one is E’rina’.” Jean’s voice was barely present, mesmerized by the constellation written on Marco’s cheek. With the increased sun hours, the spots were getting more prominent again. Jean liked it. Marco had a universe on his skin, just like himself, and it wasn't even intentional.

“E’rina’?”

“Yeah. I have E’rina’, too,” Jean said, sitting back from how far he’d leaned into Marco. He held out his left hand, connecting some of the larger black dots on the back to show Marco a spiny pattern.

“What does it mean?”

“E’rina’ is a symbol of protection and peace.” 

Marco hummed in approval, content with that image represented on his face. His eyes travelled up along Jean’s arm, across his chest, following the many little star marks spaced out over his skin. 

“Don’t you get a lot of people asking about your tattoos? Humans, I mean.”

“Sometimes,” Jean replied, caught off guard by the sudden question. “But it’s not like they suspect anything. Tattooing is popular here, just like at home. This type of design isn’t common from what I’ve seen, but people love creativity, so I get away with it.”

“Do you miss home?” Marco had asked it before he could think better of it, prompted by the smallest change in Jean’s expression. It was the same look Marco had seen earlier that day, more subtle, but distinctly filled with longing for something unreachable. The late afternoon air seemed colder, sadder, and Jean squared his shoulders against it. 

“Why?”

Marco shrugged. “I’ve moved states twice in less than two years. I never stopped missing my hometown.” 

Letting his arms fall again, Jean sighed. Reluctantly, he nodded. “I miss home.”

“It’s only normal,” Marco reassured, gently squeezing Jean’s hand. “I hope you will be able to feel at home here, too.” 

“I do, most of the time,” Jean replied, offering Marco a faint smile. Delicate as it was, Marco could see incredible strength in the display. “Just sometimes, I wish for things that aren’t possible here. Other times, I realise what I have here that I couldn’t have at home.” 

Marco nodded, recognising the feeling well. “Tell me about the good things here.” 

“Freedom. I think the most important is freedom.” Jean supported his weight on his hands, letting his head roll back. He looked at ease, even if a little sullen. “I get to choose my school, or a job. I have free time, and I decide what I do with it. On Pro’ce’b, I’m always caught up in something. My father always wants to know what I’m doing.”

“Remember when Sasha and Connie threw an impromptu New Year’s party because we said we didn’t have any plans?” Marco asked, thinking back to the fond memory. “We have really great friends.”

“Your friends.”

“Our friends,” Marco corrected, immediately disturbed by any phrasing that hinted at Jean not truly being part of the group. He was. Marco wanted him to be, and he was, despite the others’ ignorance of Jean’s origin. 

“Our friends,” Jean conceded easily, pausing as he looked Marco right in the eyes. “I have a boyfriend here. A sweet one,” he elaborated, allowing his words to settle in the air, before adding a mixture of disbelief and pride. “An alien boyfriend, for that matter.”

Marco couldn’t help but laugh, confronted with the idea that he was as much an alien species to Jean as Jean was to him, and they were both equally unbothered by it. “It's pretty awesome, right?”

“Hell yeah.” Jean grinned at him, laughing with him about the implausible normalcy. Although Jean didn't feel he was as close to everyone as Marco was, Marco was right. Jean was just new. He was new and he hadn't known his friends for that long. Yes, he told them white lies, but he didn't act. Marco and him had grown close before the other learned about his identity. The barrier really wasn't as big. Even so, it wasn't until today that Jean truly felt the cover was gone. Marco had seen his natural form before, but only briefly. Spending time with him today, it was nice to be entirely unrestrained for once. “I’m glad you found out, you know.” 

Marco smiled, unsure for what reason Jean meant, but he could come up with dozens. “Me too.” 

Shuffling closer, Marco wrapped an arm around Jean’s shoulders and pulled him against his side. He placed a supportive kiss on Jean’s cheek, but when he repeated the gesture on his neck, Jean dug his fingernails hard into Marco’s thigh. 

“Gills. Gills, Marco,” Jean warned, voice tight with the tension that shot into his system. It didn’t hurt, but his gills were sensitive, any touch to them sending short, rapid vibrations into his chest. Jean wasn’t ticklish, but he could only compare it to a thousand tiny, echoing itches. 

“Right,” Marco said, apologizing with a kiss further down Jean’s shoulder. He pulled Jean close again, resting his head against the other’s and breathing a satisfied sigh.

The sun was beginning to set, casting an array of reds and oranges along the horizon, yellows and greens turning deep blue around the edges. Jean lay with his head resting on Marco’s shoulder, looking up and breathing peacefully. He could study the dance of colours for hours, finding endless variation in their beautiful descent. Even on Pro’ce’b, where the sun never truly rose and never truly set, hues and shades would mingle and sway just like this. Marco’s skin was warm against his, both content to lie there and enjoy. The lights painted the contours of his face, strong but gentle in a way that reflected Marco's nature. It was so simple to be with Marco, no demands and no judgments, and that simplicity was blissful.

Eventually, Jean worried it had to come to an end. “Should we go home? It will be dark soon.” 

“Let’s stay.” Marco didn't look away from the sky, considering his answer. “Let’s watch the stars.” 

“We have to climb back up,” Jean pointed out, concerned that one of them could get hurt. Near the road, the streetlights would help them out, but when they had to wade through the plants, tripping over a loose root or a rock seemed inevitable. With the size of Jean’s irises, his pupils could dilate much further than Marco's, making him more adapt to low light, but in full darkness, both of them were hopeless. Jean hadn't even been in a place that knew nights for more than a few months. 

“My phone has a flashlight.” 

“You don’t have three hands.” The clever response was a common one, but there was something about the way Jean said it that made it sound like there was probably some alien species out there with three, or more, hands. Still, Marco shrugged. 

“I have you.” 

Jean fell silent, his expression losing its certainty. He looked down, gaze landing on the shoulder he’d been resting on. Together, it seemed much less intimidating. “Okay,” Jean whispered, lying back down and snuggling a bit closer. Soothing silence enveloped them again, no longer daunted by the increasing dark. 

For a second time, the serenity didn’t break until Jean spoke up. 

“Marco! Marco, a falling star! We have to make a wish,” Jean enthused, jarring Marco from his doze with the sudden volume. Marco had told Jean about “falling stars” and their believed power to fulfill wishes, and while most humans lost their excitement about it at a certain age, Jean still had more than enough. 

Marco adored Jean’s elation. “Yeah, we should.”

“I wish for--” 

“Don’t tell me!” Marco interrupted, earning a startled look. “It won’t come true. You have to wish silently.” 

Processing the new information, Jean closed his eyes and made his wish silently. He couldn’t tell Marco what he hoped for, but he believed Marco would agree with him wholeheartedly. Marco had shown Jean so much of his planet, always ready to help, even when Jean knew he was taking it too far, and Jean wished he could return the favor. He knew Marco would love to travel space, seeing the enthusiasm sparkle in his eyes and animate his gestures whenever the topic came up, and nothing would mean as much as helping Marco navigate the universe they had grown a shared interest in. 

If someday it were possible, Jean would like to show Marco his own home. 

“It must be beautiful up there, between the stars.”

“It is.” Marco’s quiet whisper only served to fortify Jean’s wish, resonating with his wonder about the unknown. “There’s so much to see.” Jean couldn't begin to describe everything he'd discovered on his journey, all of it incomparable in its own rights. He didn't have the words. He would have to show Marco those miracles, if only he got the chance to have a spaceship at his disposal. 

Maybe someday. 

The future was uncertain, but greatest odd of their meeting had already been beaten.


End file.
